


Cadbury

by riffraff84



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkwardness, Complete, Humor, Initiations, M/M, WIP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:23:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7098856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riffraff84/pseuds/riffraff84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All new Gryffindor quidditch players must attend initiation and the after party. Harry Potter is no different. However when secrets are spilled over fire whisky the boys take it upon themselves to help Harry out, with disastrous results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own them, I just play for a little while and return them. All associated warnings are clearly stated. I make no money but my muse is a review whore, who isn't ashamed to ask...
> 
> Another short one for those interested. A bit of fun and some interesting situations along the way. Looking at it being 8 Chapters with a prologue and epilogue - 10 all up. Enjoy.

Cadbury  
Summary: All new Gryfindor quidditch players must attend initiation and the after party. Harry Potter is no different. However when secrets are spilled over fire whisky the boys take it upon themselves to help Harry out, with disastrous results. 

Prologue

“I’ve never been caught with my hands full….”

“Merlin Harry you really haven’t lived much have you?” Oliver Wood laughed as he watched most of the gathered group around the fire take large swigs of their fire whisky in reply to the previous question. Harry however still sat in his quidditch leathers, his glass of fire whisky untouched since the drinking game had begun over half an hour ago. 

“You really haven’t copped a feel yet? Even with Cho? By Accident?” Fred Weasley spoke up in surprise once he’d swilled yet another mouthful of his own fire whisky. The eldest red headed twin had already gone through two glasses of whisky. Harry blushed and lowered his gaze back to the fire they were sat around having wished he’d never agreed to play the stupid game. It was gone past curfew but none were worried. Tradition, at least for one night, over shadowed Hogwarts rules and regulations. The initiation for the newest Gryffindor Quidditch players had taken place on the secluded North bank of the lake. The newest recruits had been given humiliating tasks to complete to prove their worthiness within the team before being presented with their Quidditch pins. They had laughed and joked as they’d watched the spectacle of the newbies but now that tradition had been completed the party had taken over. 

The pilfered bottles of fire whisky had been brought out, the music had been switched to high and a small bonfire had been set on the gravel bank of the lake. 

“Merlin Harry, even Ron’s got to second base. He’s been stealing cheeky feels from Hermione’s tits since first year. Admittedly he’s got permission from her now, but still.” George remarked in surprise as the group of Gryffindors looked sympathetically at Harry. 

“I think I’m going to go to bed. This isn’t exactly a game I’m going to win.” Harry muttered as he downed his full glass of fire whisky in one go and earning himself a round of applause. A little light headed he stood up from the log seat he’d shared with Oliver around the fire and went to head back towards the castle. 

“Don’t be like that Harry, some of us are just man whores.” Oliver caught Harry’s hand and pulled the younger boy back down to sit on the log. Fred and George muttered their dissent of Oliver’s comment before turning their attention back to Harry. “Maybe we could help?”

“We could point out the opportunities to expand your social experience, so you don’t miss them.” Fred became excited as he added to Oliver’s suggestion. 

“We’d be like your wing men 24/7. You’d never miss an opportunity again.” George continued as the three elder boys began nodding at each other in agreement. 

“Whoa! Back up the broomstick a minute. I’m really not at all interested in having wing-men, my love life needs no help.” Harry scoffed sharply trying and failing to sound more confident than he knew he really was. It was embarrassing to be the only one around the group not actively participating in normal teenage behavior. 

“What love life? Time alone with your right hand doesn’t count.” George barked out with a laugh causing the group once again to laugh at Harry’s expense. Harry closed his eyes as a blush crept up his neck and face despite the alcohol fueled glow he already sported. 

“Nice George, at least I didn’t need to see Madam Pomfrey for a potion for my dick after I caught Whomping Warts from Hilda Greenwood.” Harry snapped nastily and watched as George blushed the same shade of red that Harry had been just before. Satisfied that he’d placated the nasty comments Harry allowed Oliver to throw an arm drunkenly around his shoulder as the elder boy spoke. 

“Come on Potter it’ll be fun. We’ll be real discrete no one but us will know.” Oliver slurred as he spoke. Harry watched as the elder wizard tried to wink in what Harry assumed was supposed to be conspiratorially but looked more a little like sleazy. 

“Yeah Harry let us, your quidditch brothers in arms, take care of your needs.” George waggled his eyebrows cheekily. 

“Yeah we’re going to get you laid.” Fred laughed loudly, as he stood up and began gyrating his hips crudely, causing the gathered group of boys to whoop and croon crudely. Harry couldn’t help but smile at Fred’s antics but was extremely dubious about the situation had arisen. The boys settled once more and almost immediately put their heads together to plan their first intervention upon Harry’s love life. 

“Guys I don’t think this is really going to help because…” Trying one last time to dissuade his friends from their new project. 

“Relax Harry we’re on the job, so you can be on the job too.” With a parting smirk over his shoulder Fred turned back to the trio leaving Harry to sigh in resignation. Shaking his head Harry chewed his lip nervously as he settled in to watch his friends continued planning. They really were determined and Harry wasn’t sure they truly understood what they were getting into.


	2. The Last Great Poet

**Chapter 1**

**_ The Last Great Poet _ **

It was during study hall the next day when Harry first began to realize just what he’d gotten himself into. In the harsh light of the morning after the party Harry had hoped that his friends had reconsidered their drunken decision from the night before. Throughout his morning lessons Harry had been rather paranoid. He’d been constantly looking around every corner before he moved and had sensibly kept himself between Ron and Hermione most of the time, particularly when moving between classes. If Hermione and Ron had noticed their friend’s paranoid and strange behaviour they hadn’t mentioned it. When he’d reached lunch unscathed Harry had begun to think his elder friends had thankfully given up the game before it had begun. It also stood to reason that the three instigators of the decision last night were also in none of his classes, as they were older than he was. This meant that there would be little opportunity for them to interfere with his life.

So after lunch he’d let his guard down a little and relaxed as he’d headed for study hall. Ron and he had sat down at their usual table by the window, while Hermione had moved off to study with Luna for Charms. The hall had been filling quietly as the last bell sounded through the castle signaling the start of the new period.  Madam Prince and Professor Severus Snape were overseeing study hall this week. Madam Prince had taken her usual spot at the large teacher’s desk at the front of the hall, while Snape swept darkly between the rows of occupied tables. It took a few minutes for the hall to fall silent as was required but eventually all that could be heard was the scratch of quill against parchment and Snape’s dragon hide boots pacing the well-worn stone floor. Harry settled himself in for the next 70 minutes. He had a potions essay due on Friday and despite his misgivings about the subject he really did need to pass so he would be accepted into Snape’s Newt’s potions class next year. Ron as usual shuffled and shifted uncomfortably but Harry blocked it out and began his essay.

Harry had been engrossed in his essay when he’d felt Snape’s looming presence beside him. The elder wizard had paused next to Harry and Ron’s desk to look down at Harry’s parchment with a critical gaze. Harry swallowed the exasperated sigh that threatened to spill from between his lips, knowing that Snape would undoubtedly have something to say about the essay. Harry had tried this year to be a model student within the austere professor’s classes, even going so far as to sit at the front of the class with the intelligent Ravenclaws. However Harry still had to force himself to be polite when he knew Snape was baiting him. Expecting the worst Harry glanced up and plastered a mild smile on his face as he addressed the professor.

“Sir.” Harry acknowledged softly watching as Snape raised a curious eyebrow in his direction. Snape’s hands were linked behind his back and he had clearly come straight from his laboratory as his hair was limp and greasy with potion fumes. Snape looked down his nose at Harry who cocked his head to the side in quiet question.

“Acceptable beginning.” Snape’s voice was mellow and deep as he spoke and Harry suppressed the shudder that threatened to engulf his body at the mere sound. This of course was the other reason why he’d attempted to build some bridges between Snape and himself.

It had been almost six months since Harry had begun to realize he wasn’t the same as his friends. It had begun last summer after the disastrous date with Cho Chang. For his first kiss he’d expected more. He wasn’t sure what had gone wrong but he’d certainly expected something more instead of the sick queasy feeling he’d been left with. It was also that summer he’d begun to notice Charlie Weasley. As he’d spent the week with the Weasleys at The Burrow he had been swept up in Ron’s admiration for his elder brother and his chosen career. The elder Weasley was successful, handsome and charismatic. At first Harry had thought his fascination with Charlie had been simple admiration but when they’d all gone on a picnic to the lake Harry had been treated to the second eldest Weasley’s toned, taunt and sculptured body as they’d swum as a group. Harry knew it was weird. He’d spent the entire day focused on Charlie, sooner than Hermione or Ginny who been similarly scantily clad in swim suits. Where he should have been thinking about what Ginny’s lips pressed against his would feel like he was instead imaging what it would be like to lick a long wet trail along Charlie’s defined, bronzed six pack. This thought alone had led him to this point with a secret he’d kept to himself since becoming aware of it.

Thus despite his friends misapprehension he actually hadn’t been actively seeking a girlfriend this past year. Instead he’d been exploring the thoughts that had popped into his head about the distinctively male subjects of his attention. It had been a slightly surprising lesson when he’d given his attentions to Professor Snape. Listening to the man’s deeply melodious voice had brought Harry to a new realization.

Snape was hot.

Not in the usual awkward teenage way that all of Harry’s previous attentions had been but in a dark, forbidden fruit kind of way that made Harry tingle all over. So as it was Harry had mellowed his attitude towards Snape in favour of fantasizing about the elder wizard and the possibilities that would never be.

“Thank you.” Harry whispered pleased by Snape’s praise. Snape straightened himself and moved on, continuing his path towards the front of the hall. It was as Snape stepped away that Harry felt it. It was a sharp flick to his left ear.  “Ouch.” Harry muttered as he grasped at his ear and turned to Ron angrily, thinking his friend had flicked him. Ron however was fast asleep, his book propped open to hide his face as he lay on the desk, drool pooling on the desk below his face. With Ron asleep Harry began to think he’d imagined the flick but when he’d turned back to his parchment he felt it again, this time a little harder. Gritting his teeth angrily and rubbing his ear Harry now looked around at the rest of the hall.  The rest of the students in the hall were all engrossed in their work, however as Harry’s gaze swept the back row his eyes focused on a very familiar face.

Oliver Wood.

The sandy blonde haired elder boy was sitting in the back row, his book scattered around him on the desk under the pretense of studying. Harry frowned at Oliver but followed the boys gaze, as he gestured with his wand towards the right side of the hall. Inwardly Harry groaned as his gaze fell on Alice Tinker and her friend sitting quietly at the desk two rows over from him and Ron. Alice was in the year level above Harry. She was pretty faced, dark haired girl of Indian ancestry. Alice was one of the first string Hufflepuff chasers and Harry had spoken to her on a few occasions during the course of quidditch games. She was sweet but Harry had assumed she was dating a 7th year Slytherin boy.

Harry glanced back at Oliver and threw his best not interested glare at the elder boy before turning back to his parchment, hoping Oliver would give up. Harry was not so lucky and as he picked up his quill to begin writing again he felt the tingle of magic sting his ear yet again.

_‘She just broke up with Jason Cromwell’_

Almost immediately the unfamiliar hand writing appeared on his parchment below the beginning of his essay, the message clearly from Oliver.  Sighing heavily Harry picked up his quill and wrote below the previous note.

_‘NO.’_

Harry hoped it was forceful enough and having glanced around to make sure Snape was still far enough away, he glanced back at Oliver and glared at him pointedly. Oliver got the message but rolled his eyes and shook his head at Harry from across the room.

_‘You don’t have to do anything, just sit there and smile.’_

Another message appeared below the first and Harry’s panic began to rise as he read the note before glancing pleadingly back at Oliver. The look did nothing however and Harry watched as Oliver scribbled something on another piece of paper before flicking his wand at the paper quietly. Harry knew the spell Oliver had used as he watched the small square of paper fold itself into a butterfly and take to the air. The spell was simple charm that they’d all learnt in 1st year Charms. The butterfly fluttered in the air above Oliver for a few moments before taking off across the hall. Wide-eyed with horror Harry watched as the paper butterfly flew silently over the heads of the other students before landing softly and unseen by anyone else on Alice’s desk. Totally horrified Harry stared at the girls across the hall as he watched Alice pick up the butterfly and unfold the note.

Unsure of what was in the note Harry could only assume what its contents was as Alice and her friend giggled as he read the note before both of them looked up and across at Harry. Harry could do nothing but smile at them nervously as Alice blushed and fluttered her eyelashes sweetly. Biting his lip Harry nervously glanced over his shoulder back at Oliver who nodded his head and smirked proudly. Hoping that the single note would be it Harry turned back to his parchment. However as he began the next sentence on his essay he heard the unmistakable giggling across the hall. Grimacing he looked up from his parchment across at Alice and her friend. Sure enough another butterfly note was clutched in her hand and she was smiling across at him. Trying for nonchalance Harry watched as the young witch smiled across at him and winked before licking her lips deliberately and fanning herself with the end of her feather quill.

Harry was stunned, she was flirting with him. With a coy smile at him Alice turned back to her friend allowing Harry to turn back and glare at Oliver. It was very clear that Oliver was enjoying this as he continued to smirk at Harry and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Harry assumed that the note Oliver had sent was undoubtedly rude and suggestive. With another firm glare Harry turned angrily back to his parchment, hoping that ignoring Oliver would stop the elder wizard’s antics. Harry was not so lucky however and as he felt the sting of magic on his ear again he looked up to see another butterfly note cruise across the hall to Alice.

Harry didn’t have to know what the note said as he watched the expression on Alice’s face as she read it. It was clear she was shocked as she looked sharply across at Harry, a smoldering sparkle in her eyes. Harry cringed as he watched the pretty blue eyes look him up and down before settling on his face. Staring at Alice, Harry watched as the young witch lifted her finger to her mouth and licked at it, before sucking on it sexily. The intention of the gesture wasn’t lost on Harry completely but it certainly didn’t have the effect it should have. Alice made a show of removing her finger slowly from between her cherry painted lips before blowing a kiss across at Harry cheekily.

“Ew.” Harry muttered beneath his breath as he glanced back at Oliver. Oliver now sat back in his chair watching Alice with the expression Harry himself should have been displaying.  At length Oliver looked back at Harry and the boy that lived took the opportunity to mouth a message to his friend. “STOP IT” Harry mouthed the words silently but clearly enough for Oliver to get the message. Oliver yet again rolled his eyes before completely ignoring Harry and writing another note on Harry’s behalf.

In his rush to send the note however Oliver paid no attention to the position of their teachers. As the butterfly flew across the hall Harry watched in horror as the little fluttering piece of paper sailed spectacularly into the chest of one Professor Severus Snape, who had stopped beside Alice’s desk after obviously having heard the giggling earlier. Harry felt his heart miss a beat as the white of the note slid down the solid black mass of the potions master to fall at his feet.

Snape’s expression darkened as he eyed the note at his feet before bending over and picked it up. Harry’s eyes widened in fear as he glanced back at Oliver. The elder boy looked just as horrified as he ducked his head as Snape turned the note over in his hand a couple of times before looking up and scanning the hall with a scowl.

“Attention students.” Harry shifted his gaze instantly back to the desk in front of him as Snape called the attention of the hall to him. “I will ask this only once, to whom does this belong to?” Snape held up the still fluttering note and eyed the student body carefully. There was a quiet muttering that filtered around the hall but no one owned up. Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as Alice quickly gathered the other notes from her desk and stuffed them hastily into her backpack at her feet.

When there was no obvious reply to his question Snape sighed heavily and strode to the front of the hall, drawing the students attention with him as he went.

“Well then, I guess I better read it aloud to see if that will enlighten us on its owner.” Quickly Harry glanced back at Oliver, silently praying that the boy hadn’t written anything incriminating. However as Harry watched Oliver sink lower in his chair and look across at him sympathetically Harry knew it was going to be bad. “Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue. I’d like very much, if I could cum all over you….” Snape’s voice was clear as he read the note aloud. “…Love Harry Potter.” Almost immediately the entire student body turned their attention away from Snape and back at Harry with equally horrified and amused expressions. The moment of horrified silence hung in the air for a second too long before there was up roar. Between hysterical laughing, teasing taunts, whistles and cat calls Harry closed his eyes and lowered his embarrassed gaze to the desk in front of him.

“Fuck.” The single word wouldn’t have been able to be heard above the raucous that had overtaken study hall but it made Harry feel mildly better at expressing it verbally.

“Enough!” Snape called the attention of the students back to himself and Harry cringed as he watched his teacher glare at him pointedly.  “It seems we are in the presence of Hogwarts resident poet. Perhaps Mr. Potter, you will grace me with your presence at detention tonight so we may discuss your turn of phrase.” There was an ‘oooh’ that rounded the hall as Harry was unceremoniously given a detention. Harry sighed heavily as he stared up at Snape who had moved to his in order to hand him the detention slip. The man’s dark obsidian eyed Harry darkly before he spoke, his voice low so that only Harry could hear. “Disappointing.” That singular word hurt more than Harry dared to admit and he sighed as he watched Snape stalk off, leaving him to stare at the pink detention slip on his desk. Harry glanced back over his shoulder at Oliver once Snape had moved on and was no surprised to see Oliver staring at him apologetically. Oliver mouthed the word ‘sorry’ and Harry nodded quietly before sighing heavily and turning back to his essay for the rest of study hall, his thoughts firmly stuck on the inevitably bad detention he would face that evening.


	3. The Last Great Poet Serves Detention

**Chapter 1a**

**_ The Last Great Poet Serves Detention _ **

Harry sighed heavily as he wandered quickly down the quiet halls of the dungeons towards Snape’s classroom. Harry’s indiscretion during study hall had been the hot topic of conversation at dinner and Harry had dutifully excused himself from dinner earlier than he normally would. The Slytherins had naturally run with the joke and Harry had been treated to Draco squeezing the mayonnaise bottle all over Goyle’s face as he’d faked orgasm. If Draco knew that his joke had achieved the opposite effect on Harry’s emotions than the one he’d originally meant, the blonde might have re-thought his joke. As it was Harry had merely smiled as he graphically imaged what it would be like to see the blonde Slytherin in the throes of orgasm cuming all over his own face. The image had been interrupted by Alice however who had quite surprised him by pulling him aside as he’d gone to leave the hall. The pretty dark haired girl had boldly asked him out. Harry had been shocked and it had taken a few moments for his brain to truly catch up. Politely Harry had declined and after quickly diverting Alice’s attentions to Oliver back inside the great hall, he’d passed her attentions successfully off onto the Gryfindor Quidditch Captain to avoid discussing why he couldn’t date her.  In Harry’s opinion it hadn’t taken much for Alice’s attention to be shifted but he was grateful that he hadn’t had to explain to her why she’d been so quickly rejected.

Reaching the door to Snape’s classroom Harry raised his hand and knocked twice before entering. Snape wasn’t there and so Harry dutifully moved to the front bench and pulled out his quill and parchment. Snape’s detentions were either writing lines or scrubbing cauldrons. After a cursory glance around the classroom and having seen no cauldron’s waiting he assumed his punishment would be lines.

“Potter.” Harry jumped a little in his seat as the door to the classroom swung open a few minutes after Harry had arrived. Snape strode into the room his robes swirling around him in a tornado of black cloth as he came to a standstill in front of Harry. “Do you care to explain this filth?” Snape’s eyebrows rose in curious question to await Harry’s reply. The potions professor if nothing else was at least straight to the point.

“I didn’t… It’s not….You see, I don’t really like…” Harry went to stumble through a very inarticulate speech about the notes but he fell silent as he realized to whom he was talking. Snape would see through Harry’s bullshit like glass and there was no way Harry was going to spill his secret to his professor. Plus he knew that explaining himself would mean exposing Oliver and Harry didn’t want to be the reason why the head boy was scandalized in his final year. With an exaggerated sigh Harry shook his head and lowered his gaze to the desk top. “No sir.”

“So you have nothing to say in defense?” Snape prompted Harry to speak but the boy merely shook his head once more unwilling to speak further. “To say I’m surprised is an understatement. I had assumed Mr. Potter that despite your ineptitude at many things you were however respectful of your peers.” Harry looked up from the desk top as he watched Snape sigh softly before moving to prop himself up against his own desk at the front of the classroom, the note still clutched in his hand. “I must admit I didn’t think this was your style.” Snape gestured to the note in his hand and Harry consciously chewed his bottom lip nervously. He knew Snape was skeptical already that the note was his but Harry was not going to enlighten his professor on the truth anytime soon. When Harry made no move to comment, Snape sighed once more and shook his head at his young charge. “Well I at least hope that it had the desired affect considering your punishment?” Snape stood up from his desk and moved over to the chalkboard.

“Unfortunately yes.” Harry muttered beneath his breath, unaware that Snape had heard the comment. Snape frowned back at the young boy but chose not to say anything as he spun the board around and scrawled in his familiar script across the surface in chalk.

“500 lines I believe is sufficient punishment Mr. Potter.” Snape stepped away from the blackboard revealing the line that Harry had to copy.

“I will endeavor to be more discrete with my attempts at seduction so others might be spared the disastrous results.” Harry read the line and then snorted into his hand in amusement.

“Sir…” Harry went to ask why the line but Snape cut him off quickly.

“Enough Potter, you’ve got writing to do.” Snape rounded his desk and sat down to begin the pile of marking on top of it. Harry nodded a small smile still twitching at the corner of his lips. Snape it seemed had a sense of humor and Harry was rather pleased he’d seen it. “Oh and Potter…” Harry looked up from his parchment to glance at Snape once more. “If you ever wish to talk my door is always open.” With a knowing nod of his head Snape turned back to his marking leaving Harry to sigh heavily and complete the required work for his detention. In the silence of the classroom with just the scratching of two quills on parchment Harry was left alone with his thoughts and he silently wondered if Snape hadn’t mellowed a little since Harry had been trying to be better. It was a thought that would keep him awake tonight but he was pleased and so continued with his detention somewhat pleased Oliver’s well-meant disastrous help, had ended with quite unexpected results in Harry’s favour.  

 

 

A/N There we go a little bit of intrigue to keep you going. The twin's turn I think next?


	4. Mr Good With His Hands

**Chapter 2**

**_ Mr. Good With His Hands _ **

Harry sat in the quidditch locker room the following week, strapping on his wrist guards. Oliver had been overly apologetic all week although his new relationship with Alice had proved quite a talking point at quidditch practice earlier in the week. Harry had accepted his friend’s apologies with good humor, his thoughts firmly planted on the strange detention he’d served with Snape. With Oliver down for the count and licking his wounds so to speak, Harry had been confident he was out of danger where his wingmen were concerned. However his luck was about to run out as George and Fred sat down enthusiastically beside him on the locker room bench. The twins were already dressed for the game but both of them wore twin grins as they buffeted Harry playfully between them.

“So Potter. My brother and I have decided that the student populace have had suitably enough time to recover from your poetry slam earlier and it’s time to take a more direct approach.” Harry’s eyes widened in fear as Fred nudged him hard on the arm and gestured to Lillian Morewell.

Lillian Morewell was the newest recruit for Hogwarts student newspaper. Collin Crevy had given her the job of covering the Slytherin v Gryffindor grudge match this week from inside the locker room. She had been enthusiastically interviewing and taking photos of the Gryffindor’s as they’d readied themselves for the match. She was an unassuming little package of a girl. She was short with uncontrollably curly brown hair and despite the pretty innocent exterior was a complete minx. Her breasts were large and barely contained within her Hogwarts uniform blouse and Harry had heard it from a very reliable source that she had a tattoo on her lower back. She was a favorite among the 2nd years with her bubbly outgoing personality and her other…assets. Harry cringed as he glanced back at Fred and then George.

“No.” Harry stood up abruptly already shaking his head at the conspiratorial looks of the twins. “Under no circumstances do I want to have anything to do with this.” Harry grabbed his broom from where it was leant across the front of his locker. Fred and George jumped up as well and moved quickly to follow Harry who was already lining up at the tunnel entrance to the pitch where the team was beginning to assemble. Oliver was of course at the front and Harry dutifully took up position beside the team captain. The trouble twins stood dubiously behind Harry who cautiously glanced over his shoulder at the two elder wizards. “I’m serious guys leave it be.” Harry pleaded desperately as he turned back to the tunnel they would be walking down.

From outside there was a roar as the Slytherins took to the pitch. Harry could just see the green and silver blurs whoosh past the opening of the Gryffindor tunnel. As the roar died down Harry heard the muffled sound as the announcer began to introduce them.

“Come on guys some action photos of those game faces.” Lillian was standing in front of the team, her back turned to the entrance as she began snapping pictures with her camera. Harry chewed his lip nervously as he spared the twins one last look before Oliver began to lead the team up the tunnel. Lillian was still snapping away as she walked backwards in front of the team. The crowd began to roar again as Lillian appeared on the field before Oliver and Harry appeared, brooms in hand.

“Hands out and think of England Potter!” Harry stiffened in fear as he felt the crush of the team behind him before George whispered in his ear over his shoulder. Before Harry could think he was being shoved extremely hard in the back by the twin. Harry stumbled forward toward Lillian but as it looked like he would recover his footing Fred stuck out his broom handle beneath Harry’s feet. Disaster was imminent and Harry suitably prepared himself by dropping his own broom and putting both his hands out to stop himself. He was heading full force into Lillian his hands and face undoubtedly about to connect with her ample bosom. She was clearly totally unaware as she continued to snap pictures even as Harry plummeted towards her.

“Watch out!” In a split second Ginny Weasly had reacted yanking Lillian out of the way. Harry’s relief was short lived however as instead of connecting with Lillian Harry fell head long onto his knees and into a very solid body. Having closed his eyes dreading the impact with the ground Harry wasn’t sure what he’d hit. He knew it was a person however as he could feel the coarse wool fabric beneath his fingers as he gently felt around with his hands. Almost immediately there was a hushed gasp of air as the stadium fell silent and Harry got a very bad sinking feeling.

 Daring to open his eyes Harry found himself kneeling on the grass staring at pair of potion stained dragon hide boots. The sinking feeling deepened as he slowly raised his eyes, following the line of the sharp crease in the wool trousers until his eyes fell on where his hands lay clutching a cloth covered crotch at eye level. Harry swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat as he stared at his hands clutching at the crotch. With his hands frozen to the spot Harry took a deep breath in and grimaced as he slowly allowed his gaze to continue on its path upwards. He should have realized who he’d fallen into. It was like Merlin hated him or something.

“Fuck.” Harry muttered as his gaze fell on a pair of dark obsidian eyes and a very unimpressed face. There was a moment that they stared at each other before reality kicked in.

“Mr. Potter, would you kindly remove your hands from my crotch.” Snape’s voice echoed in the silence of the pitch and Harry cringed as he heard the snorts and sniggers from his team mates. Even Madam Hooch who was standing beside Snape snorted in amusement behind her gloved hand.

“Sorry sir.” Harry stumbled through an apology but in his rush to apologize he didn’t remove his hands. “I just fell.” Harry muttered as he watched Snape’s eyebrow rise in irritation.

“Indeed but I would prefer if you removed your hands before we discussed your clumsiness.” Again Snape issued his polite request and Harry quickly diverted his attention back to where his hands were still on Snape’s crotch.  

“Sorry again, I can’t feel anything.” Harry laughed nervously as his hands automatically squeezed the bulge beneath his fingers. Snape’s back straightened immediately and a strange expression passed over his face. “Not that its small and I can’t feel anything, I mean it’s probably huge I just meant I can’t feel anything.” The verbal diarrhea that spilled from Harry’s mouth was cringe worthy and Harry was sure he was making things much worse than it already was.

“Potter!” Snape’s patience snapped almost immediately as he reached down and forcefully removed Harry’s hands from his pants, the growl coming out from his deep within his chest.

“Ouch.” Harry squealed as Snape gripped his hands unnecessarily hard as he dragged Harry to his feet in front of him. With a disgusted snatch of his hands Snape dropped Harry’s fingers and folded his arms across his chest. Suddenly feeling the full weight of the professor’s angry glare Harry sighed and lowered his gaze guiltily to his feet.

“Detention Mr. Potter.” Harry sighed heavily as he nodded at Snape’s stern command. With a swirl of robes Snape had strode off back towards the teachers stands. There was an awkward silence before Madam Hooch blew her whistle and signaled to the team to take to their brooms and join the Slytherins in the sky.  At the whistle the crowd began cheering again, as Oliver lead the team up into the blue sky. Harry watched his team members take off before he turned to gather his own broom back up off the grass.

“Sorry Harry.” Fred and George were waiting for him and patted him apologetically on the back before they too took off. Harry was the last team member on the ground and was just mounting his broom when he heard Lillian’s voice behind him.

“That was brilliant Harry,  the photos I got were excellent. So care to comment on the professor’s package? I can see the headline now, ‘Potter’s Package Performance.’…” Harry opened his mouth to shout at the young witch but thought better of it. His track record of not thinking before he spoke had proved to be disastrous already today. With a disapproving glare at Lillian Harry shook his head and kicked off up into the sky. Yet again he would spend another evening with Snape and Harry hoped more than anything that it was just as enlightening as his last one had been. From what he’d felt beneath his hands in Snape’s trousers he would have plenty of material to keep him awake.


	5. Mr. Good with His Hands Does Detention

**Chapter 2a**

**_ Mr. Good with His Hands Does Detention _ **

“Cop a good feel did you Potter!” Harry sighed heavily as he glanced down at the newspaper that was slapped down on the table in front of him.  After the spectacular loss that Gryffindor had suffered at the quidditch match Harry had hurried to change so that he could be early to dinner. He was desperate to avoid the chaos that the twins poorly executed plan had created. Having sat down at the far end of the Gryffindor hall table Harry had hoped he could eat dinner quickly and slip away unnoticed by the other students, however he wasn’t spared such luck. As the hall began to fill for dinner a blonde haired Slytherin had approached him. “Well Potter, did you get a good handful of my godfather’s balls. I bet you’re real pleased with yourself you sick fuck.” The blonde boy sneered down at Harry as he gestured at the front page of the evening edition of the school newspaper. As predicted Harry’s spectacular fall had made the front page, his expression in the photo lacking some of the horror he knew he should have expressed.

“Fuck off Malfoy.” Harry muttered as he pushed himself away from the table in disgust.

“Like that sort of thing do you Potter?” Draco stared down at Harry. The blonde having grown considerably over the previous summer, so that he was now a good few centimeters above Harry.

“Yeah Malfoy I like big cocks. Particularly ones attached to your godfather come Deatheater.” Harry mocked sarcastically as he made a rude hand gesture towards the front of the hall where Snape had just sat down at the faculty table. Stunned by Harry’s open reply Draco was silent and watched a little shocked as the boy who lived flipped him the finger before storming from the great hall, his head held high.

Harry’s bravado didn’t last long and as the doors to the hall closed behind him, Harry collapsed with an exhausted sigh against the stone wall. If Draco knew how close to the truth Harry’s comment had been he might not have been so speechless. As it was however it had just looked like Harry’s usual nasty banter between his nemeses. It would be at least half an hour before Snape would make it back to the dungeons and so Harry took himself down to the kitchens in search of some leftovers from Dobby.

When Harry finally left the kitchens he was feeling decidedly fuller and a lot less angry. The door to the potions classroom was closed when he arrived and so Harry dutifully knocked and waited patiently to be admitted.

“Come.” Snape’s stern, pointed voice admitted him entrance and Harry decided almost instantly that the professor didn’t sound happy. Pushing open the door Harry braced himself as he shuffled quickly to the front of the room and waited quietly in front of Snape’s desk. Harry chewed his lip nervously as he realized that Snape was reading the evening print of the school newspaper. The same one that Draco had unceremoniously dumped in front of Harry back in the hall.  “Hmm, I might be impressed by young Miss Morewell’s talent with the camera, had the subject matter been different.” Snape finally glanced up from the paper, his eyebrow raised in curious irritation. “Am I to expect an explanation or are we to just put this latest disaster down simply to your clumsiness?”  

“I believe I think I’ve said enough already sir.” Harry whispered as he lowered his gaze back to where his hands were twisting awkwardly in his lap. He prayed silently that Snape had not noticed his own expression in the picture. The potions professor had an uncanny knack of reading expressions very well and Harry dreaded the conversation that might arise from his less than horrified look.

“Indeed Potter. I am perhaps thankful that Allison does not write for The Quibbler or The Prophet, less my sexual prowess is paraded to the entire wizarding world.” Harry cringed inwardly as Snape flicked through the paper idly before tossing it aside with a disgusted flick. “As it is, I have only to worry about the thoughts of Hogwarts own deviants and miscreants.” Harry dared to glance up at Snape’s comment surprised by the professor’s sudden turn of mood. “However with my skills in Occlumency, I believe first year potions tomorrow morning will be quite amusing.” A sick little twisted smile quirked at the corner of Snape’s lips. Harry felt his eyes widen impossibly as he realized in genuine horror that the professor at that very moment could be reading his own thoughts like he undoubtedly did with his first years.

“What would you like me to do for my punishment sir?” Desperate to get his mind off the feel of Snape’s package in his hands, Harry quickly attempted to change the subject. Snape snorted in amusement and sat back in his chair his dark obsidian gaze critically assessing the boy stood before him.

“I get the impression Mr. Potter you’re eager to begin your detention. Are you so adverse to conversation with me? Or are you worried I might discover what you’re trying to hide.” Harry swallowed awkwardly again chewing his lip nervously as he felt Snape’s gaze staring closely at him. When Harry made no move to reply Snape stood up abruptly and moved over to the chalk board. “Well you better get started, 100 lines I believe will be sufficient.” Harry moved swiftly to the front bench. He was thankful that Snape had pressed the issue but he was nervous that the potions professor knew more than he was letting on. Taking out his book Harry dated the page and inked his quill before looking up at the line on the board.

_‘I will not touch anyone else’s body parts except my own. Apart from when I am invited to do so and even then I will not make public comment on said body parts.’_

Harry chuckled to himself as he read the line Snape had scrawled on the board in his familiar script. Snape smiled sideways at the bespectacled boy before shaking his head and moving back to his desk. Harry appreciated Snape’s humor. Despite everything Snape had found amusement in the situation and for that Harry was glad. He didn’t want to annoy Snape any more than he had to, as he was quite enjoying the softer more human side of the potions professor.  

“Thank you sir.” Harry whispered as he began writing and looked up briefly from his parchment.

“Hmmm.” Was Snape’s muttered reply as he got back to marking, leaving them both in companionable silence as each of them worked. Unbeknown to Harry, Snape stared at him for a long time silently wondering what exactly was going on with the boy that lived.


	6. The Frenchman

**Chapter 3**

**_ The Frenchman _ **

**__ **

Awkward wasn’t quite the word to describe the week that followed Harry’s disastrous Quidditch match.  Harry had gone out of his way to avoid Snape outside the potions classroom, at all costs. Admittedly they’d crossed paths by accident within the corridors but Harry had kept his head low and had scampered away in the opposite direction avoiding eye contact. Now that he was conscious of Snape’s talent at Occlumency and his threat of using it, Harry too had increased his defensive practice regime. After his lessons with Snape last year the boy had been left to practice on his own after Snape had declared him useless and given up. Until now though Harry hadn’t bothered trying too hard to block his thoughts. However with a deep secret of his own looming very close to the surface of his memories and with Snape already suspicious the boy had suddenly found his motivation to practice.

Harry had to also admit that his dirtier thoughts throughout the week, instead of being about his usual cast of young male school friends, they instead featured Snape in a starring role. It was those thoughts that made a naughty blush creep into his cheeks at the most random times during the day. Like now when he was sitting eating dinner a random image would pop into his thoughts. This time it was a flash of dark obsidian eyes, perfectly arched lips and a slightly crooked nose that was pressed against his skin while a skilled tongue laved intricate paths up and down his neck. A shudder ran up his spine and Harry sighed heavily as he finished the spoonful of custard from his apple pie dessert.

“What are you thinking about Harry, you look like your granny just died?” Snapping himself out of his own private thoughts Harry shook his head and smile mildly across at Ron. Seamus and Neville also sat opposite him, while Hermione sat beside him.

“No just thinking.” Harry muttered quietly as he pushed his remaining dessert aside having suddenly lost his appetite for it.

“Not about your disaster on the quidditch field I hope? I wasn’t even involved and I’m still horrified.” Neville sympathized calmly as he helped himself to seconds of his own dessert, clearly alleviating his horror with food.

“I don’t know why, it was clearly an accident. Everyone makes mistakes.” Hermione spoke up from beside Harry, as she scowled at the other boys for their insensitivity towards their friend.

“But he touched Snape’s you know what ‘mione. I’d have nightmares for years after that.” Ron shook his head and shuddered in abhorrence, clearly upset by the very thought. Harry pressed his lips together but said nothing as his friends continued to banter back and forth about the evils of touching Snape’s ‘bits’.

It was as Seamus, Ron and Neville were discussing how Deatheaters choose wives that Harry was thankfully thrown a reprieve.

“Potter, quidditch meeting.” Harry spun around on the bench as he felt a hand come down on his shoulder. It was Oliver. After the previous two disasters Harry’s wingmen had once again fallen quiet however this time Harry wasn’t letting his guard down this time around.

“Oh it wasn’t scheduled.” Harry queried suspiciously as he eyed the other members of the Gryffindor quidditch team at the dining table.  

“Yeah well it’s a strategy meeting after our shit performance last week.” Oliver muttered as he gestured for Harry to follow him. After a reluctant glance back at his friends Harry nodded and obediently grabbed his bag and stood from the bench.

“I’ll see you guys back in the tower later on.” Harry’s friends acknowledged him with nods of their head before Harry obediently followed Oliver from the hall. Harry was kind of glad to see that the twins and the other Gryffindor quidditch team had got up to follow Oliver too. However as Oliver turned left towards the dungeons instead of right towards the Gryffindor tower at the grand staircase, Harry began to worry. Harry’s intrigue and concern grew as Oliver came to a stop in front of the Slytherin common room door. The captain of the team knocked loudly three times on the door as the whole team crowded behind him in the hall. It was a few minutes before the door to the common room swung open and Harry as assaulted by the sudden onslaught of the Weird Sisters blaring out of speakers from within.

“Excellent.” The twins spoke together as they pressed forward from behind and a stunned Harry found himself being bustled into the common room and right into the center of a party.

“What the fuck.” Harry muttered as his team members melted into the other party goers.

“It’s the annual Quidditch Fall Mixer. It’s the Slytherin’s turn to host this year.” Harry jumped a little as he felt Ginny step up beside him. The youngest red headed weasly had made the quidditch team earlier in the year as a replacement chaser, much to Ron’s disgust. The fact that his sister had made the team before he had, had caused more than a few family arguments. “Come on, let’s go get a drink.” With a nod Harry followed his best friends youngest sister through the crowd of dancing quidditch players and over to the drinks table.

“How come I’ve never been to one of these before?” Harry muttered irritably as Ginny poured him a liberal glass of punch.

“Well you’ve always been kind of busy with ‘you know who’.” Ginny whispered beneath her breath as the pair of them took up position on a couch. Harry had been in the Gryffindor common room before in his 2nd year and nothing much had changed since then. Harry and Ginny talked quietly with each other until the music changed and Ginny dragged Harry up to dance. It was while he was dancing with Ginny that Harry felt twin arms wrap around his body from behind.

“Potter, a word if we may.” Harry rolled his eyes as the twins dragged Harry away from Ginny, who was giggling at her brothers antics.

“What?” Harry looked suspiciously at the twins as they led him over to a small raised platform at the front of the common room.

“We’ve nominated you as our champion this year.” The twins laughed conspiratorially as they pushed Harry up onto the platform beside three other players from the other teams.

“Champion of what?” Harry’s panic was beginning to rise as the music died down and Edward Broomhead, captain of the Slytherin team, called the party to attention.

“The game.” Oliver joined the twins standing on the floor in front of Harry’s raised position. “You’re going to need this, trust us.” Oliver handed Harry a glass of fire whisky and encouraged the younger boy to drink it down in two large gulps.  
“I don’t want to play a game.” Harry coughed and spluttered as he downed the whisky and handed back the glass to Oliver. Fred took hold of Harry’s hand and spun the boy around, while George stood up on the platform and tied a blindfold around Harry’s face.

“You’ve been nominated, you can’t back out or we’ll forfeit.”   Harry was surprised as he felt hands spin him back around again to face the now silent party.

“Champions. This year’s game has been designed to test your skills of observation.” Harry tilted his head to the side as he listened to Edward’s voice beside him. With the blindfold on Harry could see nothing and his concern was rising with every moment that past. “Your fellow team mates have chosen from within their team’s one member who will represent them. You as the champion must kiss all four representatives and correctly identify their team and name, based on a pash.” The mild concern Harry had been struggling with before now grew to all out fear, as a cheer rose up from the crowd in front of him clearly excited by the game. “Now don’t hold back on our account, lots of tongue and sound effects but remember no touching. You get bonus points for flair.” There was a round of laughter at Edward’s comments and Harry sighed as he felt a pair of hands move him forward towards the front of the platform. There was obviously no backing out and so Harry prepared himself the best he could. “First victim please.”

Harry waited patiently as he heard laughter and chuckling beside him. It was obvious that the kissing had begun at the other end of the line and Harry prepared himself as he felt movement to his left. There were whoops and claps as the Slytherin champion beside him obviously gave the victim a thorough kiss. Harry’s palms went sweaty instantly as he felt someone step up in front of him. Having only ever shared one very unexciting kiss with Cho Harry wasn’t sure he was up for the challenge under such pressure. However before he could over think the situation a nose brushed against his before soft, slightly chapped lips pressed gently against his own. The kiss was chaste, delicate and tasted faintly of butterbeer. With his cheeks flaming Harry was kind of glad he was blindfolded so as no one could see his reaction to his second real kiss ever.

“Team and Name Potter.” George’s voice beside him made Harry jump a little and drew him back to reality.

“Um, Hufflepuff and Jenny.” Harry muttered. The kiss had been chaste and slightly nervous and so Harry assumed it belonged to a Hufflepuff. The only female Harry could pick that might be nervous would be Jenny, the young beater who had been recruited last year.

“Good guess.” George muttered as he scribbled down Harry’s answers on the blackboard that had been wheeled in from one of the disused classrooms down the hall.

“Victim two.” Edward called the next victim and Harry once again listened as the willing participate was passed along the line.

This time the kiss was forceful and controlling and Harry could only stand ridged as a tongue was pressed into his mouth at an alarming pace. There was a joyous round of clapping and laughing at this effort and Harry gasped for breath a little as the girl pulled away, nipping his bottom lip as she did.

“Fuck, Slyterthin and definitely Pansy.” Harry wiped at his lips crudely as he spoke quietly to George who yet again noted down his choices, with a snort of agreement.

As the third victim began their pass Harry had surprisingly calmed down. After the initial kiss Harry had come to realize his irrational fear of kissing was very much unfounded. Admittedly it probably helped that none of the kisses had even the remotest reaction in his own body. This further cemented the knowledge within himself that he indeed prefer men, as both kissers so far had been female.

Confident now Harry approached the third kisser with ease and the easy, passionate kiss he received. This time there was a round of applause for his effort and Harry beamed a little stupidly as he identified a Ravenclaw keeper named Jane.

“Final victim.” Edward announced.

Harry was prepared and felt George nudge him in the side and lean a little closer.

“Make it a good one Potter, she’s family.” Harry smirked to himself at George’s whisper. He knew instantly it was Ginny who was currently making her way along the line.

With the fire whisky chaser now hitting his system and his confidence back on the rise, Harry didn’t notice the strange silence that had swept over the room. Gone was the clapping and cheers but Harry assumed the crowd was just anticipating the winner. There was a niggling concern at the back of his mind as Ginny seemed to take a long time to appear before him. However before he could say anything a presence stepped up in front of him and Harry this time took the initiative, desperate not to let his team down. Leaning forward Harry’s lips met those in front of him. With four previous kisses to his name Harry now felt he could at least act like he knew what he was doing. So with more confidence he flicked his tongue along the warm lips of his partner before gently coaxing them open so that he could gently explore the musky, slightly smoky scent within.

 It briefly registered in Harry’s brain that he imagined Ginny would taste more like sunshine and sweetness. It was also then that he realized that Ginny’s soft warm skin was prickled with the slight unmistakable roughness of what could only be described as a 12o’clock shadow of someone who had been shaving. Pulling away from the kiss Harry frowned beneath his blindfold and tilted his head to the side in confusion. That familiar sinking feeling settled in his stomach when he realized just how quiet the room around him now was.

“Mr. Potter, I didn’t know you were French?” At the very sound of the familiar voice in front of him, Harry tore off the blindfold to stare wide eyed and in genuine horror at Severus Snape. Snape stood arms folded across his chest and his wand twitching irritably against his chest. Harry was frozen to the spot as he felt the full weight of his peers now staring at him in complete shock and awe. No one was moving, none daring to in case Snape snapped and cursed them all. “I am wondering if I should ask for my fillings back after a French kiss like that. Do you always molest your partners in such a manner?” Snape raised a careful eyebrow in Harry’s direction challenging the boy to reply.

“I don’t feel so well.” Harry muttered as he began to sway on his feet, his vision swimming. Before anyone could catch him however Harry had passed out, his body crumpling to the floor at Snape’s feet. Still no one dared move as they eyed Snape carefully.

“Overly dramatic as always Potter.” Snape muttered as he stepped down from the platform and addressed the party goers in the Slytherin common room. “Someone fix Potter and tell him he has detention with me tomorrow night. As for the rest of you, consider yourselves thoroughly warned if you’re not back in your own dorms within the next five minutes every one of you will have five house points removed each and a detention with filch.” At this the room began to scatter and Snape smiled darkly in satisfaction as he watched the Slytherin common room empty quicker than a room full of Kneezles. Harry’s friends had gathered around the boy’s body on the platform and Snape sighed as he watched them pick him up and carry him from the room. Something was definitely going on, and Snape was determined now more than ever to get to the bottom of it.

 

A/N Can anyone say Awkward???? Oh yes wouldn't want to be Harry in the next chapter. Hope you're enjoying it.


	7. The Frenchman on Detention

**Chapter 3a**

**_ The Frenchman On Detention _ **

Harry stood outside the potions classroom feeling decidedly ill.

After he’d awoken on the common room floor he’d been momentarily relieved that it was all just a very bad dream. Ron had brought him screaming back down to earth however reconfirming, that yes he had indeed pashed Professor Snape, with tongue and all. Oliver and the twins had made themselves suspiciously absent upon Harry’s awakening but not before the whole of the school had been told in graphic detail what had transpired at the Slytherin’s annual quidditch fall mixer.

Harry had been mortified. For two days he’d feigned illness locked in the privacy of his curtained bed in the Gryffindor tower. Ron and Hermione had been bringing him meals and he’d had Dobby sneak him back and forth to the bathroom beneath the invisibility cloak.  This morning however Madam Pomfrey had come visiting, sent no doubt by McGonagall. With Harry unable to actually create a real illness the medi-witch had simply forced a pepper up potion down his throat before scooting him off to class.

Thankfully Harry had avoided Snape all day and despite the old giggles and pointed fingers no one had mentioned the incident to Harry directly. However as he’d sat in the hall for dinner, his head lowered as to not be noticed by anyone, a note had been dropped by one  of the prefects on the table in front of him. Harry didn’t have to open it to know who it was from, having recognized the familiar swirling script.

Snape.

A little predictably the note was reminding Harry of his unfulfilled detention and his required presence after dinner in the potions classroom. So now he stood in front of the closed classroom door his stomach churning as he thought about facing Snape after such humiliation. It took Harry all his strength to raise his hand and knock twice on the door. The sound resonated around the empty hall and Harry inwardly cringed as he lowered his hand and took a deep steadying breath in.

“Come.” Snape’s voice was calm and Harry shuddered as the familiar mellow timbre swept over his body. Despite everything Harry still fancied the elder wizard and although he was mortified there was still a small part of him was thrilled at what he’d achieved. Now however though he had to face the consequences of his actions and Harry was terrified that he’d ruined the tolerant truce they’d established between them. With another deep sigh Harry swallowed nervously and pushed open the door.

Snape was sitting at his desk, a short stack of parchment in front of him. His red dipped quill rapidly flicked over the unfortunate students work. When Snape didn’t look up from his work Harry moved further into the classroom and took a seat at the front bench. With hands folded in front of him Harry patiently watched as Snape finished grading the parchment in front of him before putting the stack aside and replacing his quill in the ink pot. Harry steeled himself as Snape finally looked up at him as the elder wizard sat back in his chair. Snape’s gaze was cool and emotionless. The dark obsidian eyes seemed as if they were staring straight through into Harry’s soul. Harry wondered if Snape wasn’t trying to use occlumency on him but he couldn’t feel the familiar tingle that would signal an attempt. Remaining silent Harry met Snape’s gaze with his own far less intense one.

"Le jeune Casanova nous grâce enfin de sa présence. Vous n'obtiendrez aucun amant, si vous regrettez chaque baiser donné. De même, je parie que vous criez en jouissant, espèce de petite salope." Had Harry not been sitting down he may have fallen down as Snape spoke fluently in French. If Snape’s normal voice drew Harry into ecstasy, the man’s mellow timbre speaking in French was just heaven. Harry let out a shuddery breath trying very hard not to show any ounce of emotion despite his whirling thoughts in his mind.

“I’m sorry sir I don’t speak French.” Harry’s voice was barely a whisper and he tried very hard not to make it waver.

“Indeed you do not Potter, for that I am eternally grateful.” Harry frowned a little at Snape’s reply but made no move to question it as the professor stood up from his desk and straightened his robe. “I have been teaching for 25 years Mr. Potter and I had my doubts that any student could ever surprise me, yet the other evening you succeeded. And not in the way I had thought to ever be surprised by a student.” Harry had the good grace to blush and lower his gaze as Snape stepped around his desk and moved over to where Harry was sat at the front bench.

“I really can’t tell you how sorry I am. I was expecting you to be Ginny, George said….”Harry trailed off suddenly realizing what he was about to say.

“Ah the Weasley twins, I had thought they were too quiet of late. I was hoping they had grown some sense between them but if they were involved in this ‘situation’, then my hope was futile.” Snape raised a curious eyebrow in Harry’s direction encouraging Harry to continue with his comment. Harry however lowered his gaze back to the bench top pretending not to notice Snape’s encouragement. When Harry wasn’t forth coming with more information Snape sighed audibly and turned to pick up his wand from the top of the desk. “I know there is something going on between you and your little friends Potter. I’m not entirely sure what’s happening but I’m damn sure I’m getting tired of being mixed in with the results.” Harry cringed as Snape’s calm resolve notched up a little, displaying the slight irritation in his tone.

“Sorry sir.” Harry whispered once more as Snape paced back over to the bench where he was sat.

“I’m sure you are Potter but not as much as I am.” Snape sniffed indignantly as he addressed the boy in front of him. “After word spread of your amorous display, I was forced to discuss professionalism and inappropriate student teacher relationships with the headmaster. I was then treated to several hours of taunting from my colleagues who believe this whole ordeal to be hilarious. To say I am not pleased would be an understatement.” Snape growled low in his throat and Harry swallowed nervously as he twisted his hands in his lap. “However I am aware that you too must be suffering through the humiliation from your peers at performing such an act upon your hated potions professor. So therefore I am mollified that you too are receiving similar discomfort to myself.”

“I don’t hate you.” Harry muttered beneath his breath as he watched Snape pause in his pacing to look at Harry in undisguised disbelief.

“Indeed how you do or do not think of me is of no concern. What is of concern however is why you are allowing this…whatever it is to continue when it is clear that it is causing you more harm than gain?” Harry looked up from the bench to meet Snape’s questioning gaze. The elder wizard had stopped his pacing once more and was now stood to his full imposing height, his arms folded across his chest and his wand tapping irritably in his left hand. Harry took a moment to appreciate the sight. The wizard was devastatingly impressive and Harry inwardly sighed that the kiss they’d shared in the common room would never be repeated again, and certainly not in the way Harry would want it.

“I think you’d be surprised sir.” Harry finally whispered knowing well that Snape was not letting his question go unanswered this time around.

“I find that totally unbelievable Potter. Your presence at these detentions alone must be both humiliating and abhorrent.” Snape waved his wand pointedly around the classroom causing the candles to flicker ominously at the crackle of Snape’s magic. The Deatheater, turned spy was a powerful wizard in his own right and Harry respected the fact, even admired it.

“You’d think that sir.” Harry whispered beneath his breath hoping that Snape hadn’t heard the comment. Snape of course had and frowned once more at the passive boy sat before him. Harry was not himself and had not been for some time. The Harry, Snape had come to know would have jumped at the chance to yell and scream at him but this green eyed boy in front of him seemed dejected and almost resigned to his fate. It was not a change that Snape liked at all. Taking a deep breath Snape unfolded his arms and relaxed his posture a little as he calmed himself once more.

“I reiterate my previous offer Mr. Potter. If you wish to discuss anything at all, my door is always open. There are few who understand the difficulties that arise from being attached to his royal darkness and I would be displeased to know you have suffered unnecessarily if there were something I could have helped with.” Snape’s voice had mellowed once more to the calm deep timbre of the wizard Harry liked most. Inwardly Harry smiled. Snape had mistaken everything that was going on to be problems with Voldemort. With a thankful sigh Harry nodded, pleased that the professor had completely misread the situation. It was far easier for Harry to blame Voldemort for the previous disasters than admit to the fact he was gay and lusting after his potions professor.

“Thank you for the offer sir.” Harry paused and Snape waited patiently expecting that Harry would take up his offer and spill his secrets. “It is late sir, can I complete my detention so that I’m in bed before curfew.” Harry of course had no intention of being forthcoming and after the boys comment; Snape sighed loudly and shook his head in despair. Once more the boy had not taken the offer of help.

“Very well Potter, 50 lines should see you done.” Snape flicked his wand in irritation at the chalk board and Harry watched as the professor familiar scrawl appeared on the board.

_‘My tongue is not a tool with which to torture others, however with permission can be put to much better use.’_

Harry smirked at the line on the board as he dragged his quill and parchment out of his bag. Snape smiled coyly to himself as he sat back down at his desk. The boy had a sense of humor still at least. Once Harry had settled into writing his lines, Snape too settled back into marking only occasionally looking up to smile to himself in amusement.

 

 

A/N Okay so I liked this chapter it was fun, plus it indulged one of my own fancies, of Snape speaking french. In saying that however I don't speak French and thus the translation of the three sentences into french could be utter crap. If you are french I apologize immensely for google translation and the subsequent murdering of your language. Should you speak french and wish to fix the translation for me I would be eternally grateful it would also probably save me an inordinate amount of emails I'm likely to get about it being wrong. Additional Note:- Thanks to Mad Chestnut Tree for the proper translation into French many thanks. Anyhow, if you're not into a little mystery Snape's comments should read............

**_The young Casanova graces us with his presence finally. You will make no lover if you regret every kiss._ ** **_ I bet you'd scream when you cum too you dirty little bastard. _ **

Hehehehe *wicked laugh* oh yes that begins to put things into frame quite nicely I believe. Hope you enjoyed. 3 chapters to go..... 


	8. Minute Man

**_Chapter 4_ **

**_Minute Man_ **

“It’s time for drastic measures Harry.” Harry sighed heavily as he flopped down onto the bed his hands over his face in exasperation. The trio of mischief that was Oliver, George and Fred stood at the foot of his bed. They had given him a good fortnight of peace after the horrors of the fall mixer in the Slytherin common room, and Harry had prayed more than wished that they had finally given up. Tonight however was the qudditch cup award ceremony and dance. It was the last event of the season before the winter holidays.

“No.” Harry sat up and folded his arms firmly across his chest. Snape’s words echoed in his mind. _‘Why you keep letting them do it…’_

“Not so hasty Harry, we’re going to really work together this time. No half measures anymore.” Oliver sat down on the end of the bed, as Fred threw open Harry’s trunk and George strode over to the boy’s wardrobe.

“Indeed we’re going to get you laid the right way.” George began sorting through Harry’s clothes in the wardrobe selecting various items and tossing others aside with disgust. Fred too was searching through Harry’s trunk, pulling out Harry’s best shoes and cloak. Oliver was quietly assessing Harry’s hair with a look Harry could only describe as concerning.

“What if I don’t want to get laid?” Harry declared pointedly causing all three boys to stop in their activities and look at Harry strangely. “What if I don’t like girls?” Harry whispered softly, carefully assessing his friend’s reaction. Fred, George and Oliver stared at Harry for a long minute before all three boys burst out into hysterical laughter. Harry managed a weak smile as he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding onto.

“What a laugh Harry, you’re full of shit. Who doesn’t want to get laid?” George snorted in amusement as he went back to searching Harry’s wardrobe.

“Indeed brother, he only says that because he doesn’t know what it is like. Once he’s got his end away he’ll be singing a different tune.” Fred laughed too as he buffed up Harry’s black dress shoes with the sleeve of his robe.

“You do tell a good joke Harry, not liking girls. As if!” Oliver laughed as he grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged the boy up from his bed. “They’re a pain in the arse sometimes but they make up for it in other areas.” George thrust the selection of clothes he’d picked out of Harry’s wardrobe into the younger boy’s arms. Oliver pushed Harry towards the stairs leading from the dormitory down towards the boys bathrooms. “Just go and get yourself spit and polished, then leave the rest up to us.” Harry paused on the threshold of the staircase and glance back at his friends, once again wondering how he’d gotten himself into another situation he couldn’t back out of.

“What about Snape….” In a last ditch attempt at saving himself from more humiliation Harry tried to pull the only card he knew might work.

“Oh don’t worry about him Harry, he’s been summoned. Nearly dropped an entire bottle of potion in class this afternoon.” Fred smiled brightly unaware that the news of Snape’s summons hadn’t yet reached Harry.

“Brilliant timing that Tom Riddle, couldn’t have planned it better.” Fred added as he pushed Harry once more again towards the stairs and the bathroom.

“So don’t worry Harry, now get on with you?” With a flick of his wand Oliver sent Harry flying down the stairs, leaving his friends giggling after him.

Down in the bathroom Harry slowly showered and changed into the clothes that his friends had chosen for him. Of his small selection of clothes George had managed to choose Harry some half decent rags. With a pair of tight muggle jeans, a weird sisters t-shirt Ron had brought him for Christmas last year and an old leather jacket that Mrs. Wealsey had given him that once belonged to Charlie, Harry thought he almost looked trendy. Harry sighed heavily as he glanced at his reflection in the mirror above the sink before turning and stepping out of the bathroom. Harry’s thoughts however were firmly on Snape and the possible things that could be happening. As Harry exited the boys’ bathroom Oliver was waiting for him.

“We’ll have to fix that hair Harry, you really should buy yourself some hair tonic it’ll tame it much better.”  After shaking out some of the potion from a bottle within his pocket, Oliver flicked his fingers through Harry’s hair spiking the untamable brown locks into some semblance of style. When he was satisfied Oliver grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled him towards the great hall. “Now you just be your charming usual self and let us take care of the romance.” The doors to the great hall were already open and Oliver strolled in with Harry trailing behind him. Quickly they took their seats and Harry sighed as he glanced up to the staff table and the empty space where Snape usually sat. It was somewhat sad really that the Slytherin quidditch team had won the cup but that their head of house wasn’t here to see it. Harry’s attention was drawn back to the present however, as Dumbledore clapped his hands and began the presentation ceremony of the quidditch cup.  

Harry watched proceedings politely and clapped when he needed to. When Alistair Clearwater, captain of the Slytherin quidditch team, stepped up to receive the cup the Slytherin side of the hall erupted in shouts and hollers excitement.  The rest of the hall dutifully clapped too but none were entirely happy for the Slytherin’s to have won. Still the rest of the presentations passed quickly and before too long the tables had been pushed aside and the staff had retired to the staff room. The candles had dimmed and the music had begun.

“You do realize I don’t dance.” Harry muttered as he joined the small group of his friends standing by the drinks table.

“One glass of this and it won’t matter Harry.” Fred stepped up to the punch bowl carefully hiding his concealed bottle of potion while George and Ron played look outs. Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed as she grabbed hold of Ginny’s arm just as Fred tipped the entire bottle of potion into the punch.

“Come on Ginny the boys are being immature and we shouldn’t be around here when their stupidity blows up in their faces.” Harry sighed as he watched Hermione and Ginny retreat across to the other side of the hall.

“I think they’ve got the right idea.” Harry muttered as Ron handed him a cup of the laced punch.

“Oliver said you should drink the whole cup. Is there something going on Harry with my brothers and Oliver? They said you probably wouldn’t make it back to the dorm room tonight when I asked if we were going to Hogsmeade in the morning.” Harry sniffed at the cup. He wondered silently what potion Fred had slipped into it.

“Yeah but don’t worry about it Ron, according to Snape it’s mostly my own fault and I’m beginning to think he’s right.” With another cursory sniff of the glass of punch Harry steeled himself and downed the full cup in one go. “But he’s not here so what’s the worst that could happen?” With a shrug of his shoulder Harry straightened his back and surveyed the hall a decision finally made. If Fred, George and Oliver were not going to give up until Harry got laid then he would do just that or at least convince someone to lie that they’d done it.

“Hey Ron, is wizarding sex the same as muggle sex?” Harry muttered as he continued to scan the room looking for a suitable choice. Ron chuckled nervously a flush creeping up into his cheeks as he looked sideways at Harry.

“Well, you sort of put it...in…” Ron was clearly very inarticulate trying to describe sex and Harry smirked as Ron made crude gesture with his hands.

“Not that, I mean magical wise. Is there anything I should be prepared for, anything unexpected?” Harry laughed coyly, watching as Ron nodded as reality dawned on him.

“Right well no, not that I know of. Are you planning on doing it Harry?” Ron inquired quietly as he watched Harry scan the room.

“Not if I can help it.” Harry muttered beneath his breath as his gaze settled on Janet Fletchly. Harry knew Janet from herbology. She was a pretty sort of girl, thin and tall with dark silken locks that trailed down her back. She was friends with Neville but very few others. Harry had often spoken to her during herbology but he’d had little else to do with her. As far as Harry could tell she seemed trustworthy and Harry hoped she was willing to help him. With a determined gait Harry negotiated his way through the dancing couples and over to where Janet was sat with Neville. “Janet, Neville. Hi.” Harry whispered as he smiled at Janet and Neville warmly. “Would you like to dance Janet?” Janet looked around nervously unsure if Harry was actually talking to her.

“Yes, thank you.” Offering his hand, Harry led Janet out onto the dance floor. Harry gently took hold of Janet’s waist and the girl gently placed her hands around Harry’s neck as they began swaying to the music. They were silent for a while Harry nervously chewing his lip as he felt Janet staring at him.

“Why did you ask me to dance Harry, if you aren’t going to look at me?” Janet’s voice was soft and curious and Harry inwardly cursed himself as he looked down into the onyx eyes of the girl in his arms. It was strange but with her eyes and her long black hair Harry could almost imagine she was someone else, dancing in his arms.

“Sorry, it’s just…” Harry trailed off nervously. Janet rolled her eyes and leaned a little closer so that her voice could be heard above the music but not overheard by the others around them.

“I know Harry, I know your secret.” Harry’s eyes widened impossibly as Janet looked carefully around her as she pulled Harry a little closer and pushed her forehead against his. “Now give me a kiss like you mean it and let’s get out of here.” A little shocked Harry didn’t have time to think before Janet had pressed her lips against his. It was with some ease that Harry deepened the kiss as her tongue flicked at his lips asking permission to enter. Harry closed his eyes then as his hands slid into her hair, mirroring the actions he longed to do with someone else’s dark silky locks. “You’re not half bad Potter.” Janet smiled sweetly as she licked her lips after they parted. Still in shock Harry smiled as he allowed Janet to lead him from the hall, his hand in hers.

“Hang on a minute, where are we going?” Harry pulled Janet to a stop as she began to lead them out into the courtyard outside the castle.

“Anywhere you want to really. We just have to be long enough to get them talking.” Janet shrugged her shoulders as she continued walking out into the garden. Harry frowned and ran to get in front of Janet and pulled her to a stop.

“I don’t understand Janet, what’s going on?” Harry queried pointedly as he stared into the girls sparkling onyx eyes.

“Of that I am totally sure. You’re so adorably clueless aren’t you Harry?” Janet laughed and grabbed Harry’s hand once again running down the path and into the rose garden that adjoined the greenhouses. “I know you’re gay Harry and I know you’re trying very hard to hide the fact.” Harry went to protest but was surprised when Janet cut him off by reaching forward and grabbing his crotch. “And don’t lie Harry most boys your age should be as hard as a rock after a kiss like the one you just gave me.” With a sweet chuckle Janet let Harry’s crotch go and with a flick of her hair continued to skip through the rose bushes. The girls infectious laugh made Harry chuckle and shake his head as he followed her between the rows of bushes.

“How did you know?” Harry inquired softly.

“It takes one to see one Harry, why do you think I’ve never dated?” Harry was stunned as Janet found a seemingly comfy spot and sat down. “I like you Harry, you’re going along with your friend’s game quite well. I did wonder when you’d get tired of it though.” Sitting down beside Janet Harry silently looked out at Hagrid’s hut and the lake beyond. “That is why you asked me to dance isn’t it? To ask me to lie for you, say we did it and that you were a spectacular lay.” Harry had the good grace to blush and look away at Janet’s gentle rise of her eyebrow.

“Sorry. Was I that transparent?” Harry muttered as he picked up a few rocks from beside him in the garden and tossed them gently against a flowerpot a few steps away.

“No, I would just do the same in your position. I overheard Oliver talking with Fred and George regarding your arrangement. When you approached me tonight I kind of figured what you wanted.” Janet lay back on the grass to stare up at the stars above. Harry looked down at her. In the moonlight if he tried hard enough Harry could imagine a certain potions professor lying on the grass beside him.

“You’re thinking about someone.” Janet whispered as she closed her eyes, very aware that Harry was staring at her.

“No one special.” Harry muttered consciously looking away back out to the lake.

“Keep telling yourself that Potter.” Janet laughed and rolled her eyes. “Come on, that’s probably long enough, you are only just fifteen after all.”

“Hey I’m not a minute man.” Harry balked at the implication as he offered a hand down to Janet to help her up, as he too stood up.

“You don’t know what type of man you are yet Harry, but for arguments sake let’s just agree not to put a time frame on your performance.” Harry laughed in genuine mirth and forgetting himself let go of Janet’s hands too quickly, causing her to fall back to her knees at Harry’s feet.

“If anyone saw us they wouldn’t have wonder about what we’re doing in this position.” Janet laughed as she cheekily gestured to Harry’s crotch at her eye level.

“Whatever, come on it is nearly curfew.” Offering his hand down once more Harry helped Janet up from her knees. With a smile Harry walked beside Janet towards the side entry back into the foyer. For the first time in a long time Harry felt at ease. As they approached the entry however Harry was stunned as Janet unexpectedly pushed him up against the wall beside the entry way.

“We’ve got to make it look real, rough us up a little bit.” Janet leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Harry’s lips, making the boys ruby red lips plump and swollen. “Untuck the shirt, mess up the hair and lower this a little bit.” Janet giggled cheekily as she unzipped Harry’s trousers a little before messing up his hair.

“Hey!” Harry grumped as he spun them around and reversed their positions so that Janet was pushed against the wall and Harry was messing up her hair. “There now we both look like we’ve been fucking in rose garden.” Harry laughed and smiled coyly as Janet reached up and touched his scar in quiet wonder.

“So come on Harry tell me who you were thinking about before, you looked happy.” Janet pressed as she nuzzled her nose against Harry’s playfully.

“It’s no one…” Harry whispered shyly as he turned his face slightly away from Janet’s.

“Come on Harry, we’re friends now…or at least fuck buddies. We can share secrets.” Janet’s smile was warm and caring and Harry knew that the girl was genuine.

“Fine it’s….” Resigned to tell the girl his secret Harry sighed and began but was cut off sharply.

“Snape!”

“What? How did you know?!” Harry’s eyes widened impossibly at Janet’s comment, shocked that the girl had guessed.

“No Harry, Professor Snape, Sir.” Frowning Harry began to realize that Janet was no longer looking at him and instead was staring horrified over Harry’s shoulder at something behind him.

“Mr. Potter, am I interrupting something…again?” The liquid honey tone of a very familiar professor split the tension in the air like a knife.

“Snape.” Harry muttered his eyes closing as Janet wriggled her way out from under him, trying and failing to right her clothes as she did so. Harry didn’t bother turning around and instead leaned forward so that his head came to rest on the wall where Janet had been pinned not a few moments before.

"And here I thought my evening could get no worse, but alas…” Snape trailed off and Harry didn’t miss the tinge of exhaustion he heard in the elder wizard’s tone of voice.

“We didn’t do anything sir, just fooling around really.” Harry cringed at Janet’s hasty explanation, clearly not helping the situation at all.

“Miss Fletchly, I suggest you return to your dorm. Mr. Potter has detention with me this evening.” Harry slowly pushed himself away from the wall, finally daring to open his eyes and face the elder wizard behind him. Snape was stood up in death eater robes minus the mask. His hair was mattered with blood and dirt and his wand was gripped tightly in a slightly shaking grip. Harry instantly forgot his humiliation as he stared at the shell of the wizard stood before him. Snape looked as if he would collapse at any moment and Harry forced himself not to react as Snape waved Janet away with a flick of his hand. The dark haired girl scrambled inside the castle at the gesture, having first thrown a sympathetic glance at Harry. Harry ignored it however his gaze fixed on the professor before him.

“Sir, are you alright?” Harry whispered as he went to reach out as Snape stumbled on the stairs.

“Perfectly fine Potter.” Snape whispered softly without an ounce of bitter nastiness he might have used if he was well. “Come along, to my office.” With that Snape stumbled into the castle leaving Harry trailing carefully behind him.

 

(A/N) Well okay two to go....


	9. Minute Man’s Punishment

**_Chapter 4a_ **

**_Minute Man’s Punishment_ **

Harry trailed behind Snape quietly as the elder wizard limped and staggered along the halls. It was very obvious that Snape was not well but Harry chewed his lip and chose not to comment. Eventually however they reached Snape’s office and Harry paused on the threshold as Snape staggered into his room. With what little energy he had left Snape collapsed down into the armchair by the fireplace in exhaustion.

“Don’t linger Potter.” With his eyes closed Snape laid his head back against the cushion of the armchair, as he addressed Harry. Jumping a little Harry moved into the office and gently closed the door behind him. Quietly Harry stood on the rug beside the fireplace as he watched Snape’s bloodied fingers gently gripping the arms of the chair as the professor fought an unseen pain. The wave of pain seemed to pass however and Harry sighed heavily as Snape opened his eyes and stared at him with cool regard.

“Are you okay sir? Would you like me to fetch Madam Pomphrey?” Harry twisted his hands nervously in front of him as he tried to keep his tone even and calm.

“No, that molly codling medi-witch does nothing but fuss. This will pass once I take the potions.” Snape untucked his wand and flicked it carefully at a bookcase beside the fireplace. Harry watched as the books moved aside and a small cupboard appeared in the shelves. “If you wouldn’t mind.” Snape whispered as the doors to the cupboard popped open revealing what Harry assumed was Snape’s personal store of potions. “The purple one and the whisky decanter too.” As Harry moved towards the cupboard Snape directed Harry’s attentions to the two items he wanted. Harry huffed a short chuckle as he picked up the purple bottle of potion along with the crystal whisky decanter and matching glass. “Bring a glass for yourself too Potter.”

“Sir?” Harry questioned sharply, unsure whether he was being led into a trap by accepting Snape’s offer, which was surely against school policy.

“Oh come Potter, you’re a man now aren’t you?” Snape raised a pointed eyebrow at Harry who blushed and looked away guiltily.  Snape snorted at the boy’s coyness as he took the potion from Harry’s hand. Harry chewed his lip as his breath caught in his throat as Snape’s fingers brushed his own. Harry didn’t reply and instead watched Snape struggle for a moment with the stopper of the potions bottle before uncorking it and taking the potion in one big gulp. Snape grimaced at the foul tasting potion but then poured himself and Harry a glass of whisky. Snape took a swig from his own glass before offering Harry the other glass. Harry paused tentatively as he stared at the offered glass clutched in Snape’s bloodied hand. “Take it Potter. It’s not a trick I just don’t fancy drinking alone.” Harry sighed heavily clearly Snape had read his thoughts, or at the very least the expression on his face. Stepping forward Harry accepted the glass and took a small sip of the single malt whisky. The burn of the alcohol warmed his insides and calmed a little of his nerves. “Sit and tell me about your evening.” Snape gestured to the other armchair beside the fire. Nervously Harry sat down the glass of whisky clutched between both his hands in an effort to stop him from shaking.

“I’d rather not sir, it was pretty ordinary yet again.” Harry whispered.

“My evening was far worse on all levels Potter as I spent it in servitude with the dark lord. So either you tell me what’s going on with you or I’ll tell you about my evening and then we can both be treated to the nightmares.” Yet again Snape gritted his teeth, closed his eyes and gripped the arm rests of the chair as a wave of pain swept over his body. Harry struggled to stay seated, desperate to go over to Snape and help ease his pain. Seeing Snape in so much pain and not wanting it to continue Harry decided then to confess what was happening with his friends.

“They decided I needed help.” Harry sat back in the armchair his hands still clutching the glass of whisky.

“By they, I am assuming Mr. Wood and the Weasley twins.” Harry sighed and nodded, of course Snape had worked out who was involved already.

“They’re meant to be my wingmen. To point out opportunities.” Harry offered as he watched Snape tilt his head to the side slightly in amusement.

“Opportunities to…” Snape pressed watching as Harry blushed.

“Get laid, cop a feel, kiss someone. I’m not entirely sure they had a goal in mind except to get me some action, so to speak. Apparently my love life sucks.” Harry trailed off quietly. He was somewhat surprised as he heard Snape laugh as the elder wizard poured himself another glass of whisky.

“Quite. I’m sure humiliation and embarrassment wasn’t what you agreed to.”

“I didn’t agree to it at all!” Harry quickly interjected determined to let Snape know he wasn’t willingly participating in the situations Oliver and the twins had put him in.

“Well I’m assuming it ended well, if this evening with Janet Fletchly is any indication?” Harry didn’t miss the slightly bitter tone that entered Snape’s voice as he spoke of what he’d interrupted earlier in the evening.

“We didn’t do it, just made it look like we had, so they’d leave me alone.” Harry quickly supplied desperate to ensure that Snape understood he wasn’t sleeping with Janet.  “But I think they spiked the punch I was drinking with potion. So no doubt something bad is still going to happen. It’s probably a love potion or something.” Harry sighed heavily thinking about the potion he’d seen Fred pour into the punch. Snape frowned at Harry.

“A potion? Come here and I’ll see.” Snape gestured for Harry to come to him and Harry obediently stepped over to the potions professor. Putting aside his glass of whisky Snape grabbed his wand and with a flourish flicked the tip across Harry’s torso. Harry felt a warm tingle spread across his chest as Snape performed the charm.

“No potion but perhaps a little whisky.” As the charm came to a close Snape lowered his wand and rested back in the armchair.

“That’d explain my own stupidity.” Harry muttered as he swilled the whisky glass in his hands.  

“How so?” Snape queried as he kept a hold of his wand and picked up his own glass of whisky to take another sip.

“I’m a Cadbury and they all know it.” Harry continued his gaze lost in the amber liquid in the glass.  

“A what?” Unfamiliar with the muggle phrase Snape frowned his glass paused halfway to his lips.

“A Cadbury – a glass and a half of this stuff and I’m anyone’s.” Harry gestured to the whisky as he lifted the glass and took a sip of the amber liquid.

“Well you better drink up then.” Without missing a beat Snape leaned forward and with the tip of a bloodied finger tipped Harry’s glass further upwards, encouraging the boy to drink the entire glass in one go. Harry’s eyes widened impossibly as he finished the glass of whisky with a cough and a splutter. There was a strange glint in Snape’s eyes as he stared at Harry in silence. Harry felt his breath catch in his throat as he stared into the obsidian eyes of his professor. The gaze stirred something inside of Harry that the boy as yet was not willing to admit to and so he swallowed awkwardly and finally looked away from Snape’s stare.

“Sir, do you mind if I just get my detention over with? I’m pretty sure this is the last one I’ll have to complete, they’ll give up now they think…” Harry put the crystal glass back on the coffee table as he looked carefully at Snape for the elder wizard’s reaction. At Harry’s words Snape seemed to snap out of his momentarily lapse of concentration.

“And you honestly believe that don’t you Potter? You believe that your friends are going to give up on this ridiculous charade just because you convinced Miss Fletchly to play along with your lies?” Harry swallowed nervously as he watched Snape stand up from his chair, clearly irritated all of a sudden.

“Lies?” Harry whispered as he watched Snape stride over to the fireplace, the potion having clearly made him feel much better and more like himself.

“Yes, lies Potter. The lies you’re telling have far greater consequences that just your stupid little friends. They affect everything and everyone, particularly yourself! You’d have thought by now you’d have realized that with your life expectancy in this war at a minimum that you need to embrace every opportunity afford to you, instead of pleasing everyone else!” Snape was now very clearly mad, his fists clenched in anger.

“Sir I don’t know what you’re talking about, can’t I just start my lines?” Harry pleaded quietly, not liking where Snape’s conversation was heading.

“You’re incorrigible Harry James Potter. If you wish to be obtuse you shall not find me so. Here’s your bloody parchment and quill and here’s your bloody lines.” Snape flicked his wand and Harry found himself sliding across the floor and slamming into the chair behind Snape’s desk. A quill and parchment flew across the room to land in front of him on the desk. Quickly Harry picked up the quill and inked it a Snape stepped up to the front of the desk and slammed his hands down on its surface as he began to dictate the line he wanted Harry to copy. “You will write 50 times. I Harry James Potter will stop pretending to be heterosexual so that the rest of us may be spared the bumbling ineptitude of my friends failed attempts to get me laid. Particularly when they are clearly laboring under the misapprehension that you like that sort of thing and when it is very clear to anyone of that persuasion that you prefer cock. So I will do us all a favour and tell my ridiculous Gryffindor friends that I’m gay!” Harry sat wide eyed and shocked as Snape finished his angry tirade. The professors’ breathing was rapid and his temper was clearly bubbling beneath the surface. When Snape realized his younger charge wasn’t writing he paused in front of the desk his arms folded across his chest as he glared at Harry angrily. The tension filled silence hung between the pair of them for a long moment before Harry glanced down at his parchment to where his inked quill had dripped all over the clean paper.

“Sorry sir, I think I’m going to need a bigger piece of parchment for that…” Harry wasn’t sure why he chose those words or why his brain had failed to register just exactly what Snape had said. The reaction from Snape however was not entirely unexpected.

“FUCK!” In exasperation Snape swore loudly, his anger finally bursting free and allowing Harry to see the frustration and anguish within. With a further curse Snape threw his hands up in the air and after a disbelieving and angry snarl in Harry’s direction turned on his heel and stormed from the room. The silence in Snape’s wake was deafening and Harry stared at the closed door that Snape had just slammed shut.

“Shit.” Harry muttered when the moment caught up with him and Snape’s words had sunk in a little better. If nothing else Snape had just told him the truth. It was an ugly truth but a truth none the less. Of all the people Harry had imagined talking with about this, Severus Snape was the last person on that list. With an exaggerated sigh Harry stood up from the desk and moved over to where his and Snape’s glasses sat abandoned with the whisky decanter on the coffee table. Snape’s glass was smudged with blood from the man’s hands and Harry stared at it for a long time wondering just how bad Snape’s evening had been with Voldemort. It was that thought alone that made Harry’s decision clear. He didn’t want Snape to suffer and even if unconsciously Harry was doing just that. His lies were causing them all pain and for the death eater turned spy, whose life revolved around lying, Harry’s own lies were obviously too much to deal with as well.  Bending down Harry picked up both glasses and the decanter and moved over to the closed door that Snape had disappeared through just before.

“No more lies.” Harry whispered to himself as he pushed open the door and stepped into the darkness.

 

(A/N So at this point I suggest if you're happy with the PG rating I'd stop reading. However I will probably earn the M or E rating in the next chapter. Might need to upgrade the rating. Anyway aside from that the part we've all be waiting for is next up...." )


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was a little while coming but here it is, a fitting end to an awkwardly innocent story.

**_Epilogue_ **

It was dark inside the room as Harry pushed open the door quietly. Harry had never been beyond Snape’s sitting room before and so was unsure into what room he was stepping. To his right Harry could make out a short hall table and beyond in the darkness he could just make out the dark shapes of other pieces of unknown furniture.

“Professor?” Harry whispered nervously as he looked around the shadowed room. There was a shifting of something in the darkness and Harry assumed it was Snape. The elder wizard however didn’t reply and so Harry sighed heavily. “Please sir, I just want to talk.” Harry tried again, once more looking into the darkness.

“I believe I’ve said enough already Potter.” Harry smiled in a small won success as Snape’s cold voice replied to him from the darkness.

“Can I light a candle or something? I’d really like to just talk.” Harry went to move towards the small hall table to his right, intent on putting down the glasses and decanter of whisky to go in search of a candle. Before Harry could move however he felt the wave of magic sweep over the room before a warm glow of several candles illuminated the space and a fireplace on the far wall roared into life.  Harry blinked a few times in the changed light and took a moment to look around the room. It was a bedroom, beautifully furnished with gothic wooden furniture and rich cream and blue fabrics. Harry was somewhat surprised by the décor of the bedroom and the disorganized clutter than seemed to be haphazardly strewn about the room. There were half open books, scattered parchments and quills, half empty bottles of potions and both clean and dirty robes and clothes hung and strewn about the floor and furniture. Harry smiled crookedly at the scene. If he didn’t know the occupant Harry might have said the room belonged to a typical messy teenager.

Knowing better than to comment however Harry schooled his expression back to neutral as he focused on the wing backed armchair tucked in a nook beside the fireplace. Snape was sat in the chair sideways, his face resting in his bloodied hands.

“I want to apologize for my outburst before. It was inappropriate as a Professor for me to make such comments in that manner. If you wish to make a formal complaint I will accept the consequences that come from it.” Snape didn’t look at Harry and instead kept his face hidden behind a delicate hand and the curtain of his hair. Harry sighed heavily and stepped further into the room, carefully putting aside the decanter and glasses before closing the door behind him.

“I’m not going to report you. If anything I expected you to have me expelled after I assaulted you on several occasions over the last few months.” Harry shrugged and moved further into the bedroom and over to a small dresser of draws. On the top of the chest of drawers were photos and pictures in various silver and gold frames. Some of the pictures were older than others but nearly all of them moved and shifted just like wizarding photos should. Harry didn’t recognize any of them however and so turned back to face Snape sitting in the chair just as before. “You only told me something I already knew. I just didn’t want to acknowledge it.” Harry paused and swept his gaze over Snape’s form. The elder wizard looked tired and it was very clear he was trying to avoid looking at Harry. “You should wash that blood off.” With a sudden determination Harry flicked his wand a summoned a basin of warm steaming water and a face washer. “It’s not yours is it?” Harry queried as he knelt down on the rug in front of Snape’s arm chair and reached for the wizard’s hands. Snape didn’t speak and barely shook his head in reply as he watched with his dark obsidian eyes as Harry washed his hands.

“You shouldn’t be here Potter.” Snape whispered as he watched the water turn red as Harry gently washed off the blood. The touch of Harry’s hands against Snape’s was gentle and soft. The boy could feel the hard roughened calluses on his thumb and forefinger where the elder wizard held his wand. The simple gesture was intimate and Harry took a moment to enjoy the feeling of being allowed to touch Snape in such a manner.

“I thought you’d want to hear the truth, the whole truth this time.” Harry looked up coyly from where Snape’s long sculptured fingers lay softly in his own beneath the red tinted water in the bowl. “Would you mind if I asked you to change first though. I’d rather not discuss this with you, when you’re dressed like my worst nightmare.” Snape nodded quiet and Harry reluctantly let go of his hands as the elder wizard stood.

“You better make yourself at home and pour us another drink then.” Harry nodded as Snape turned and disappeared through an inner door that Harry assumed was a bathroom. Shrugging off his leather jacket Harry tossed it onto the top of the trunk at the bottom of Snape’s bed. Quickly Harry moved to the abandoned glasses and whisky decanter on the side table. Taking his time Harry cleaned Snape’s glass of the bloodied finger prints before pouring the liquor into them.  Taking his own glass Harry circled the room slowly taking in the small intimate details of Snape’s life that were scattered about his room. There were small mementos from all over the world gracing various surfaces and Harry wondered who had sent them to Snape, knowing that the man had probably had little time himself to travel. Sipping at the amber liquid Harry finally made it back to the fireplace and sat down crossed legged on the rug to wait for Snape to return.

Snape stepped out of the bathroom and Harry had to bite his lip from a shocked gasp that might have slipped out as he took in the professor’s appearance. For the first time ever Snape wasn’t dressed in his traditional teaching robes. Instead he stood up in soft merle grey lounge pants and a deep burgundy, collarless shirt that was rolled to his elbows. There was nothing on his feet and Harry marveled at how much younger the professor looked with his hair freshly washed and tied back with a black ribbon at the base of his neck.

“For me?” Harry didn’t realize he was gawking until he heard Snape huff in mock amusement before moving over to where Harry had left the second glass of whisky.

“Oh yeah.” Harry stuttered abruptly unable to stop the blush that rose in his cheeks as he lowered his gawking gaze from Snape’s appearance. Snape grabbed the glass of whisky before moving to sit back in the armchair beside the fireplace. Harry didn’t miss the angry dark mark that flashed on the elder wizards forearm as he sipped from the whisky once again and relaxed into the cushions. There was an awkward silence that hung between them neither willing to speak as each wizard stared into their glass of amber as if the secrets of the world were contained within the liquid.

“Considering we’re breaking several school and ministry rules at your request, I suggest you start talking Potter.” Snape broke the silence first as a slight tremble of his hands, no doubt a result of curses, caused his glass of whisky to shake for a moment.

“Oh right…” Harry paused unsure now where he was going to begin. “Well you’re right, I like…” Harry struggled to find the right words and chewed nervously at his lip.

“Cock?” Snape supplied unhelpfully with a slightly sarcastic sigh. Harry felt the crimson blush creep into his cheeks once more as he ducked his head avoiding eye contact with the elder wizard. “It’s hardly surprising you can’t tell your friends if you can barely say it to yourself. Is being so inclined such a terrible affliction?” Snape sipped carefully at his whisky as he eyed Harry’s reaction closely.

“No, I just don’t want to be any more different than I already am. I thought at least that part of my life could be normal.” Harry sighed and closed his eyes sadly. He’d processed this very thought lots of times before in the quiet security of his bed. Harry had played the scenario over and over in his head, what it would be like to tell his friends. Every scenario however ended the same, with him being friendless and more of a weirdo than he already was.

“That’s a terribly depressing thought Potter and a very muggle one at that. Have you learnt so little about wizarding society that you believe we have the same values that narrow minded muggles have?” Harry shrugged his shoulders and watched as Snape sighed and rolled his eyes. “Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith Harry. Stop pretending to be someone they want you to be and just be yourself.”

“That’d be fine if I knew who I was…” Harry trailed off quietly as he rolled the glass of whisky around in his hand dangerously close to spilling it.

“I’m afraid I cannot help with that one, only you know who you are. Just do what makes you happy, which in this life is a rarity…” Harry glanced up at Snape who was staring at him with an almost warm expression on his face. A strange tension filled silence stretched between them before Snape sighed heavily and took a mouthful of his whisky. “But if you’re struggling, I find that alcohol helps a lot. So drink up Cadbury.”  Snape finished the remains of his whisky before smiling crookedly at Harry. Harry blushed as he remembered having shared his secret with Snape earlier. “Then you can fetch me a refill in the hopes it might dampen the nightmares.”  Harry watched as Snape shook his empty glass, having gestured for Harry to finish his own.

Harry stared at the outstretched hand towards him. The fine boned delicate fingers that were wrapped around the glass reminded Harry of the touch they had shared in the living room before. Harry shivered as he remembered the soft brush of warm skin against his own and the wave of desire and the tingle of magic that had swept over his body. He wasn’t sure what it was but he knew he wanted to feel it again. Taking a deep confident breath Harry reached forward and grabbed the glass, consciously stroking his fingers against Snape’s as he took the glass.

“Refill?” Harry questioned softly as he put Snape’s empty glass aside. Snape nodded and yawned seemingly not to notice Harry’s deliberate stroke of his fingers. “Well you better come and get it then.” Harry whispered softly as he took another deep breath. He stood from the floor and took the necessary few steps over to where Snape was sat in his armchair. With a confidence that had from nowhere, Harry straddled Snape’s lap and sat down. Snape stiffened immediately under Harry’s unexpected weight and stared at the younger wizard with mild shock and confusion. Harry ignored this however as he took a large swig of his own whisky before leaning forward and locking his mouth with Snape’s. The kiss was instantly deep as Snape shared the whisky that Harry allowed to trickle from between his lips until it was gone. Their tongues dueled as both wizards fought for dominance but when Snape bit Harry’s lip in warning the younger wizard obediently surrendered control. Harry relaxed almost instantly as he felt Snape’s hands come up to rest on his waist, holding him firmly in place. Finally breathless the pair drew apart and Harry sighed heavily as he licked his lips, enjoying the taste of the fine single malt whisky with a hint of spice that was purely Snape.

“That was unexpected,” Snape breathed out cautiously as Harry’s eyes flickered open revealing the emerald pools Snape was so captivated by.

“Guess I hit my limit.” Harry breathed out a little nervously as he gestured to his now empty whisky glass.

“Cadbury indeed.” Snape spoke calmly his deep mellow timbre rattling low in his chest and causing Harry to shudder in expectation. A small droplet of whisky clung to Snape’s chin. On impulse Harry leaned forward, the tip of his tongue reaching out to lick up the bead of amber liquid before tracing up over the slightly stubbled chin to the kiss bruised lips of his professor, for yet another devastating kiss. They broke apart again as Harry let out a little groan and unconsciously ground down into Snape’s lap causing the elder wizard to gasp in excitement. Harry sighed as he watched Snape’s eyebrow rise in silent question. “I believe you are quite pushing the boundaries on what is considered an appropriate student teacher relationship Potter.” Snape whispered his voice a little too quiet to truly be upset by the current events. Harry shrugged his shoulders and wriggled back against Snape’s lap once again eliciting a barely contained groan from his professor. It was a sound Harry knew he wouldn’t grow tired of hearing.

“Appropriate? Oh there is going to be nothing appropriate about what comes next…” Before Snape could reply Harry had once more locked his lips with the elder wizards, the boys hands coming up to run through the freshly washed silky dark locks of his partner. Snape too had come to the end of his restrained and with an enviable and somewhat surprising strength Snape stood up. Harry’s legs wrapped automatically around the elder wizard’s waist and neither of them broke the kiss as they stumbled over to the bed.

Harry let out a breathless gasp of surprise as he was pressed down onto the bed. Sitting up on his elbows and still panting, Harry watched as Snape began stripping off his clothes. Enjoying the show Harry sat transfixed as he watched as each tantalizing expanse of flesh was revealed to him. Snape’s skin was like marble, soft and creamy with the white veins of old scars littering the surface. The dark mark stood out as a sickly reminder of how the wizard before him survived on a daily basis.

“I can cover it, if you wish?” Snape muttered once he’d finished undressing and had finally realized what Harry was looking at. Harry shook his head definitely as he crawled up onto his knees and stalked to the end of the bed. Snape froze to the spot as Harry reached over and grabbed his hand before leaning down to begin a trail of soft kisses from the man’s thin, potion stained fingers up his forearm to where the dark mark lay.  Closing his eyes Snape shuddered in exhilaration as Harry traced the dark mark with his tongue, twirling it around the curves of the magical tattoo in an erotic dance. “Keep doing that Potter and you’ll really piss him off.” With a strangled moan Snape pulled his arm away reluctantly from Harry’s attentions. Harry sat back on his heels and smiled wryly up at Snape from beneath his eyelashes.

“Fuck him, he’s always pissed off.”

“True.” Snape muttered as he leant forward and followed Harry up the bed as the boy crawled backwards towards the headboard. “Lose the clothes, Harry.” Snape growled low in his throat as Harry hastily began stripping himself of his clothes. With each item of clothing that Harry removed, Snape was instantly there, mapping the boy’s youthful skin with his hands and pressing urgent kisses to the particularly sensitive spots he found. By the time Harry was naked he was already writhing in ecstasy on the bed. His hands were twisted up into the silk sheets and his cock curved achingly up against Snape’s stomach, just begging for attention. Harry had dreamed off this moment even since he’d taken an interest in Charlie Weasley that summer. He’d dreamt of hands not his own roaming his skin, of a hot moist tongue trailing over his pulse points and driving him insane with need. Admittedly Harry hadn’t exactly pictured his current partner in the situations but really his dreams hadn’t come close to the reality. Severus Snape was talented beyond what Harry could have imagined and what Harry had put down to a school yard crush on his professor had now become an all-out obsession. 

Someone was making lewd groaning and crooning noises and Harry was pretty sure it was him as Snape finally descended upon his cock and swallowed his entire length. That was Harry’s undoing and reality seemed to blur at the edges as a firm hand came up to hold his hips still even as he tried to trust into the deliciously tight heat of Snape’s mouth.

“Now, now young one, don’t spoil it…” Snape chastised as he pulled off Harry’s prick with a playful nip. Harry was incoherent however and allowed himself to be turned over and dragged to his knees. With a practiced ease Snape maneuvered his young charge into position, his hands sweeping over the boys heated flesh playing with him until he shifted into exactly the right place. At this point Harry couldn’t have cared less about his embarrassingly little amount of experience as Snape prepared his virgin hole with a warmed oil. The only thing Harry was focused on was the feeling of those skilled fingers gently but firmly twisting up inside him, while the elder wizard pressed soothing kisses on his back and neck. “Any last words?” Snape breathed out as he pressed his body up against Harry’s, his own rigid member pressed against the cleft of the boy’s backside. Harry shook his head intently and simply pushed back urging Snape to proceed.

Snape didn’t need any further indication of Harry’s wanton need and so with the concentration and care of a wizard of his years and experience, Snape slid himself slowly but firmly home. Harry’s breathing hitched in pain but Snape’s whispered words against his neck and soothing hands forever moving on his skin kept his pain to a minimum. When he was fully seated in the tight well of his partner, Snape paused to catch his breath. The boy was so delightfully tight and with each hitched breath Snape felt the boy’s muscles contract around him. Snape knew if the boy didn’t calm down neither of them would last the distance. With a careful hand Snape reached up to sweep the unruly hair out of Harry’s sweat drenched face.

“Calm down Harry, relax and just breath through it.” Harry’s cock had wilted with the pain but as the elder wizard behind him moved and brushed a spot deep within him, the pain was soon forgotten. Stars sparkled behind Harry’s eyes as Snape’s solid cock thrust back and forth deep within him. Harry was in a new world of ecstasy and the sounds that fell from his lips were nothing but pleasurable ramblings. Snape too had lost his own iron control and with twin hands gripping the boy’s waist tightly he thrust wildly back and forth into his partner’s tight heat until he was crashing over the precipice. Harry felt Snape’s cock erupt inside him the warm wave sweeping over him as the elder wizard cried out Harry’s name. At the very sound of the man’s hoarse shout Harry was lost too. With an embarrassingly high pitched scream and without being touched Harry came. The thick tendrils of cum splattered out onto the headboard in front of him as he collapsed sideways onto the bed. Snape rolled with him and Harry was far too exhausted to even flinch as the man’s softening cock slipped free of his body.

Harry knew he would be sore but the unbelievably content feeling that swept over his body as Snape wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly, chased away any other emotions.  For the first time ever Harry felt genuinely loved. The silence was companionable and both wizards lay together allowing the sweat to cool on their skin. Harry didn’t want the moment to end, however as he lay there something struck him.

“You were right…” Harry whispered as he turned over slightly and Snape propped himself up on his elbow to stared down at the boy staring back at him. Snape frowned in confusion but watched as a mischievous sparkle lit up those once innocent green eyes. “I do scream when I cum.” Snape’s eyes widened in surprise as he realized what conversation Harry was referring to. Harry barked out a hoarse chuckle as he leaned up and pressed a delicate kiss to Snape’s questioning brow. “I don’t speak French but it turns out Neville Longbottom does. You should have seen his face when he translated my memory for me…” Snape couldn’t help but laugh too, the rich melodious sound making Harry’s already sensitive skin tingle in delight. The elder wizard before him was truly relaxed and Harry was proud that he was the cause of it.

“You never cease to surprise me Cadbury…” Snape chuckled once more as he pulled Harry too him and pressed a firm loving kiss to the boys lips before both of them settled back into a dreamless but content slumber.

 

_\-----------THE END------------_

 

_Hope you all enjoyed it. A short one which is unusual for me. Will get back to work on my other piece as soon as I can. Thanks for your support. Riffraff_


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